


hello my old heart

by eversall



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Uses His Words, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Multi, Pack Feels, Rebuilt Hale House
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 11:57:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4828310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eversall/pseuds/eversall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It begins like this – Stiles is hopelessly lost in the Beacon Hills Library, which has definitely undergone renovations in the last two years, and he’s wandering around trying his best to look like a helpless puppy or something and sure enough, a librarian in a navy blue cashmere sweater and thick-rimmed black glasses shows up, and that librarian happens to be Derek Hale.<br/>Stiles’ heart skips a beat and he suddenly feels like he’s drowning in something unfamiliar, an ache beginning to build in his chest.<br/>.<br/>The pack drifts back together, and Derek in sweaters kind of breaks Stiles a little. In a good way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hello my old heart

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuse for this fluffy fic with no plot? Derek Hale in sweaters seems hot? Stiles Stilinski spazzing over that seems hot? Also Stiles bonding with the rest of the pack is hot? what.  
> title taken from the song with the same name by The Oh Hellos

It begins like this – Stiles is hopelessly lost in the Beacon Hills Library, which has definitely undergone renovations in the last two years, and he’s wandering around trying his best to look like a helpless puppy or something and sure enough, a librarian in a navy blue cashmere sweater and thick-rimmed black glasses shows up, and that librarian happens to be Derek Hale.

Stiles’ heart skips a beat and he suddenly feels like he’s drowning in something unfamiliar, an ache beginning to build in his chest.

.

“I – I haven’t seen you in a while.” Derek says, and he sounds – relaxed. Like he might be genuinely interested in what Stiles is going to say, and not just to look angry or disappointed or like the world is caving in on his shoulders but to know what’s happening in Stiles’ life. Like an unfairly attractive man resting against the bookshelves and making his way back into Stiles’ life.

“Yeah, buddy,” Stiles croaks out, mentally cringing at _buddy_ , “I’m finished with college.”

“Here to stay?” Derek enquires.

“Yeah.” Stiles says, his voice small and afraid. “Yeah.”

.

The whole pack is back in town; Stiles was the last one to drift in.

“It’s pack. We were bound to end up together in the end.” Derek explains to them when they all meet at the diner that serves crap milkshakes but the best burgers and curly fries. In fact, Derek has pretty much carried the conversation for all of them, as they look at each other, distrustful and wary. Scott has Kira on one side and Stiles on the other, his arm draped possessively around the kitsune, while Kira shoots nervous glances at Allison. Lydia is on Stiles’ other side, and has been steadily digging her manicured nails into his thigh harder and harder under the table as she gets more and more irritated with the silence. Boyd being silent is, well, usual, and Erica looks bored, gazing at the other patrons in the diner. Isaac looks like a kicked puppy, but Stiles’ figures he always looks like a kicked puppy, and considering the way this group is behaving Isaac may look like a kicked puppy for a while. Jackson is more subdued than usual, sitting next to Danny and concentrating intently on his food like his burger might run off if he takes his eyes off it for a second.

“Were we really meant to end up together.” Scott asks finally, more a statement than anything, but Derek raises an eyebrow at him and looks – serene, for a lack of a better word, Stiles thinks. Like he’s confident in this, in them.

.

Stiles goes back to the library. He isn’t sure why.

Well. He _knows_ why. He needs to check out the mythology section and see how far it aligns with the bestiary, and he needs to see Derek Hale in his natural environment. Derek is wearing a different sweater today, this time one with a hood, and he’s laughing as he talks to a mother with a beaming toddler on her hip. Stiles’ heart clenches at the soft look on his face as he grabs the toddlers hands and eclipses them in his bigger ones.

“You shouldn’t stalk me at my workplace.” Derek scolds him a few minutes later when he finds Stiles lurking in the young adult section. “You can come talk to me; I promise not to slam you into any more walls.”

“Are you trying to make a joke?” Stiles demands, taking in the little crinkle at the corner of Derek’s eyes.

“You’re right.” Derek says solemnly. “I’m joking. I’d totally slam you into a wall again.” He smiles slowly, and Stiles’ stomach does a little dance.

“Unfair.” He manages to say accusingly before he flees the scene again.

.

“I’ve done the math.” Lydia announces to Stiles as she drops in besides him at the food court in the mall. “Getting back together with Jackson has a 34% chance of working, a 37% chance of death, and a 65% chance of a threesome.”

“Yeah, I don’t – what? Threesome?” Stiles asks, mildly alarmed. He and Lydia finished up their college degrees at MIT, and after Scott she’s his closest friend. He has never known her to share her partner so willingly.

“Danny.” She explains gloomily. “Jackson is a little conflicted right now on exactly who _his_ type is.” She starts ripping viciously into one of the chicken nuggets Stiles has on his plates. He subtly moves his curly fries to the side; he doesn’t want them getting the Edward Scissorhands treatment.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Allison in the little jewelry store next to the food court and thinks about strong women in his life. He thinks about Lydia and who she trusts and how she trusts, and Allison and Scott too afraid to admit to each other that they’re so over their past love. He thinks about Kira, who walks around like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Maybe,” he says slowly, trying and failing to save another chicken nugget from Lydia’s hands, “you’re looking in the wrong place for your type. “ He jerks his head meaningfully towards Allison, and Lydia looks at her thoughtfully.

“Huh.” She says.

.

“Don’t you have a job?” Derek asks him the next time he’s at the library.

“Yes, actually.” Stiles says snapping his fingers. “It’s called Hang Around Derek Until I Can Figure Out When He Became Such A Normal Person.”

“Yeah,” Derek says wryly, “sounds like a lot of work.”

“It pays well.” Stiles allows graciously, “in smiles from the previously elusive, and smile-free Derek Hale.”

Derek smiles at that, and Stiles counts it as a win.

.

It takes exactly ten minutes of awkward bowling before Erica and Stiles are as thick as thieves again. They’re out bowling with Boyd and Isaac, and Stiles thought he would feel like a fourth wheel on their not!date – “Because it’s not a date!” Isaac insists, the poor fool – but Erica has him sabotaging Boyd and Isaac’s game in no time.

They go back to his place afterwards to play videogames, his apartment on the main road that he bought because it was close to the station and he could keep an eye on his dad. It also has good storage space and a tiny office room that’s set up perfectly to allow Stiles to make his wards and charms and magical stuff. He makes it for an online supplier of magic goods. It’s a great gig – Stiles gets to make potions in his underwear and spend the rest of the time volunteering at the animal clinic that Scott now runs.

Erica kicks their asses at every game they play, and Isaac loses so spectacularly at Rainbow Road that Boyd takes pity on him and puts his hands over Isaacs’ on the controller, guiding him through the course. Stiles doesn’t have to be a werewolf to notice the hitch in Isaac’s breath or the blush that rises to his cheeks; his pleased little smile doesn’t escape Stiles either.

“I’m happy for you guys.” He says, bumping Erica’s shoulder companionably as she watches her two boys fondly.

.

“I can’t believe I can _order_ your services.” Derek says with no small amount of glee as Stiles puts up protective wards around the Hale property.

“Oh my god, you dork.” Stiles says, rolling his eyes. “You didn’t need to go ask my _employer_ for this; I’m your emissary, I do this anyway!”

“Yeah but it’s so much more fun this way.” Derek says. “And watch your attitude – I have to fill out a customer satisfaction review and you’re not faring too well.”

The dick writes him up and claims he has poor people skills, but Stiles can’t be mad because Derek is wearing one of his stupid-soft sweaters again, in white, and he keeps pushing his glasses up his nose and grinning at Stiles making a fool out of himself. Stiles can’t be mad. He never could escape Derek’s pull.

.

Kira comes to him one day, in a panic.

“I _passed_ it.” She hisses to him.

“Woah.” Stiles says, holding up his hands. “Calm down, you’ll short out the lights again.”

“But Stiles I passed the test!” she wails, leaning against his countertop. Kira is seriously distressed, and yet Stiles cannot for the life of him figure out what test could be this upsetting to pass.

Unless – “Kira?” Stiles asks weakly, gesturing to her stomach, and she nods miserably at him. _Oh_.

So Stiles goes with her to the supermarket and helps her hide the pregnancy tests in a basket of eggs and milk and bread and ice cream, and they go back to his house and triple-check that yes, Kira really is pregnant.

“Shit.” Stiles says with feeling. Kira slumps besides him and tucks her face into his shoulder. These past four years have brought them closer – after a point where your best friend’s girlfriend calls you up and says things like ‘I think Scott is trying to werewolf court me’ or ‘Scott shredded my favorite shirt today so you can tell him I’m not talking to him’, it becomes okay to be bros with her too. And Stiles thinks about it – Kira is turning twenty-three next month, and that’s a little young, but he thinks about the soft looks on her face when she catches Scott with one of her kindergartners (she’s a teacher), and thinks this might not be wholly a bad thing.

“You can keep it, or you can give it up, but at the end of the day,” he says firmly, “whatever happened, whatever happens now, you can’t think of it as a mistake.”

“Okay.” Kira says, breathing hard. “But I’m scared.”

“Yeah.” Stiles says. “But?” because he can sense there’s something else she wants to say.

“I think I did it.” She finally says. “Last full moon, I wished – I wanted this. Children. It – I didn’t think it would come so soon, but once it did –“

“ –once it did, you couldn’t think of anything less perfect.” Stiles finishes for her, thinking about Derek and his damn sweaters.

.

“The pack is growing.” Derek says, smug and satisfied the next time he swings by Stiles’ apartment with coffee and bagels.

“Now who’s stalking who at their workplace?” Stiles asks, gesturing maniacally in his boxer shorts and ratty t-shirt. In his defense, he’s been working hard on a particularly potent spell and Derek showing up looking soft and rumpled in a button down cardigan is nothing short of torture.

“Have you slept at _all_?” Derek asks, making a disappointed face at all the take-out containers and other trash items littering his table. Stiles frowns uncertainly.

“I’m pretty sure there were power naps involved.” He concedes. “Somewhere around three a.m. there was definitely a power nap.” Derek’s disappointed face intensifies, and he removes the coffee from Stiles’ hands.

“Hey, _no_.” Stiles whines petulantly, but Derek is having none of that and shoves him towards the hallway and into his bedroom. He might complain more about being manhandled, but in the process of shoving Derek away his hands happen to clutch the worn material of the cardigan, and the combination of that and the line of hard muscle Stiles can feel under it is just _too_ much for his sleep-addled brain to handle. And whatever, his unicorn-pacifying potion can steep for a few hours.

He flops into his bed, and can’t even bring himself to be surprised when Derek curls up next to him. A lifetime of strange shenanigans crammed into his teenage years has taught him that his werewolves like to cuddle, and emphatically ignore Stiles when he declares he doesn’t like all the cuddling. Probably because they can hear the lie behind it, so whatever.

“Isaac is going to be so jealous of our puppy pile.” Stiles slurs contentedly as he burrows deeper into his blankets. He hears Derek huff out a laugh against his neck as he falls asleep.

(He wakes up with Isaac crowded against his front and Erica and Boyd tangled up across the foot of the bed, and the smell of a unicorn-pacifying potion that has inexplicably turned into a wart remover potion. God, his _life_.)

.

“So answer this honestly,” Scott says at him, nervously waving around a donut from the box of donuts they’re sharing. Scott says sharing, but Stiles says hoarding because Stiles has eaten all of two and Scott is already on his seventh. “Would I make a good father?”

“Yes.” Stiles says without hesitating. “I’m going to be godfather, right?”

“What!” Scott shouts, agitated. From somewhere in the back of the clinic, a cat yowls. “Kira already told you?”

“She came to me as soon as she passed the pregnancy test. Congratulations man.” Stiles says, grinning, and claps a hand to Scott’s shoulders. Scott beams at him, and then slumps and puts his head in his hands.

“What’s the problem?” Stiles asks, concerned. He also filches one of the jelly-filled donuts that Scott’s been hoarding from him.

“I want to marry Kira.” Scott says quietly.

“And?”

“I don’t want her to think that – that I’m asking her because she’s pregnant.” He admits, sitting up straighter. It’s times like these that Scott looks older, looks like the alpha Stiles knows he’s meant to be. Scott is strong, and patient, and loyal, and kind, but he’s also intelligent in ways that people tend to forget.

“How long have you had the ring, Scotty?” Stiles asks, because he knows Scott. None of the rest of the pack are probably thinking of settling down yet, though they all seemed to have find their life partners, but Scott – Stiles knows Scott has wanted to spend his life with Kira and has been itching to ask her for _years_.

“A year now.” Scott admits, and Stiles smiles at him.

“So just tell her.” He says sincerely. “Make it a sweet proposal, full of meaningful things. Use your words, and you can’t go wrong. She loves you, and as long as you don’t accidentally blurt it out – heck, even if you do that – she’ll know what you mean.”

“So,” Scott says, tugging at his hair, “there’s no doubt she’ll say yes?”

“She’ll say yes because she loves _you_.” Stiles says. “The child is just – icing on the cake.”

.

“I just – you might be going a little overboard.” Stiles says, watching on amusedly as Derek tries to decide between a Winnie-the-Pooh themed high chair and a cute little elephant themed one, and then proceeds to heft both into their cart. Stiles peers from around the mound of stuffed animals, clothes, toys, and various appliances that he’s lugging around. “Seriously. They’re having one child, not octuplets. Oh my god, how huge would Kira be? Jesus. Honestly though, between your shopping and Lydia’s, and Jackson’s, and Scott and Kira’s, there’s going to be enough things for a small _army_ of babies.”

“Anything this baby doesn’t use can be stored for the next baby.” Derek informs him prissily. He’s wearing a pale blue full sleeved shirt, the sleeves pushed up to reveal his unfairly hot _forearms_. Seriously, arms shouldn’t turn Stiles on this much. “And it’s good for Scott and Kira to have choices when they put together a nursery.”

“Whatever you say, Derek.” Stiles drawls, stealthily sneaking wolf plushies into the cart. This baby is going to be the most coddled child this side of the Mississippi, he can already tell.

.

“Stilinski,” Jackson barks at him when he’s walking out of the grocery store, because A, Jackson’s an asshole that still calls him by his last name, and B, Jackson’s an asshole who thinks it’s funny that Stiles jumped a foot in the air and is clutching his chest, wheezing like an old lady. Scratch that, the old ladies are laughing at him.

“ _Jesus_ , Whittemore.” Stiles scowls. “Tone the douchebag down a notch.”

“Am I attractive to gay guys?” Jackson asks, frowning, which is a total non sequitur and an awful throwback to his high school years. Stiles shudders.

“It’s like watching a trainwreck repeat itself.” He says, staring at Jackson. “Uh, dude, trust me, you’re definitely Danny’s type.”

“I wasn’t-“ Jackson says, before sighing and running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I was.” Surprisingly enough, he picks up some of the shopping bags Stiles dropped in his fright and helps Stiles load them into the Jeep.

“ _Well_.” Stiles says. “I am not qualified to give Jackson Whittemore relationship advice, no way no how, so go ask like, Boyd or something. He and Erica are the only relatively stable ones. They’re so stable,” Stiles says emphatically, waving around some celery that’s definitely finding its way to the police station and to his dad’s lunch, “they’re so stable they managed to snag themselves an _extra boyfriend_.” Isaac is like, deliriously happy. No more kicked puppy faces, which Stiles is totally on board with.

“Yeah but I figured – like, you and Derek, right? So tell me how that happened and I can figure out what to do with Danny.” Stiles laughs, because that’s the kind of thing he doesn’t like to think about.

“Yeah, me and Derek? Not dating. Not anything. Nada.” He says gloomily. “We go on ‘dates’ all the time and bring each other food and act like an old married couple, except without all the _action_. And the _benefits_.”

“Oh boy.” Jackson says, and he actually looks and sounds sympathetic, so Stiles decides to cut him some slack. After all, Jackson is having a kind of epiphany currently, what with the sexuality thing and the Danny thing.

“Let’s go out for milkshakes and bitch about all the sex we aren’t having.” Stiles decides. “I think you deserve milkshakes.”

.

“Your house is so _nice_.” Stiles says lazily, waving his hand at the airy living room around him. Derek has put a lot of effort into making it new and big and basically perfect for their pack. Currently, he’s camped out on the couch after a Doctor Who marathon, complete with enough pizza and soda to kill his body slowly. He feels like he’s having a food baby.

Derek, inhuman freak that he is, is still munching his way through the last pizza, staring judgmentally at Stiles’ lack of appetite.

“You need to eat more.” He says disapprovingly. “You can’t maintain all that muscle if you don’t eat more.” Stiles gapes at him.

“You think I have _muscle_?” Stiles asks incredulously. “What, are you checking me out or something?” He means it as a joke, mostly, but Derek’s cheeks turn red and he focuses intently on chewing his pizza like he might choke and die if he doesn’t devote all his attention to his digestive system.

“Oh- _what_.” Stiles says faintly, his head reeling. Derek is wearing a forest green sweater, and it matches his eyes, and he’s _so_ gorgeous; but it’s the openness that’s killing Stiles, the way that Derek is relaxed around him, trusts him, the way he doesn’t hide in front of Stiles, and that’s more than anyone’s ever given him. And he’s not sure that he’s the best person to give it to.

Derek puts down his food slowly, carefully, and makes his way over to Stiles. Stiles straightens up from his slouch, feeling oddly vulnerable at the determined look in his eyes.

“I’ve been waiting for you.” Is what Derek finally says, kneeling in front of Stiles. “These past two years, since you moved away – I knew when you’d come back you’d be different, and I would too. If it weren’t for that, I would have – asked you out a long time ago, I think. But I had to be sure,” he says, his hand tangling with Stiles’, “I had to be sure that we were it for each other even after you left. So I’ve been waiting.” He’s earnest, and his voice is unwavering, and Stiles’ feels like he can’t breathe.

“I always thought you’d-“ he manages to croak out.

“-be an emotionally constipated sourwolf?” Derek asks wryly, and Stiles grins a little at that. “Like I said, things change.” Stiles lifts a finger to trace the outline of Derek’s jaw. He doesn’t think so, not anymore. He thinks that all along, he and Derek have been creeping closer to this, and Derek understood that much better than Stiles did.

Derek exhales into Stiles palm and tugs him forward, just a little, to kiss him. It’s sweet and chaste, and Stiles’ feels like he’s finally not drowning anymore.

.

Scott and Kira go to the courthouse first with just Stiles, Stiles’ dad, Melissa, and Kira’s parents. It’s efficient and not at all romantic, but they both want to be married before the little kitsune – or werewolf – is born, and they can’t stop beaming at each other. Stiles can’t stop grinning at everyone too, or texting pictures of them every few minutes to Derek.

“And don’t think I don’t know why you’re here!” he says to his dad as they exit the courthouse, Scott carrying Kira the whole way and Kira delightedly waving their certificate at passerby.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His dad responds blandly, opening the car door for Ms. McCall. So there’s another happy ending, and he knows that his dad and Scott’s mom are moving together at a glacial pace, both still juggling heavy emotional baggage and the kind of stress that comes from being involved in the supernatural, but it makes him feel warmer, more content, to see the pieces of his life coming together.

The baby comes in the spring, and Scott and Kira decide to name her Kimiko. Little Kimi is doted on, and has more toys than she knows what to do with. And five months later, on a lazy summer evening, his dad officiates a ceremony in the backyard of the Hale house that’s nothing but beautiful – the setting sun casts a hazy golden glow on a radiant Kira, and Scott looks like a king. Kimiko is babbling happily at everyone, being passed around from one adoring pack member to the next. Lydia and Allison are the first ones to join Scott and Kira for a couple’s dance, and after a moment’s hesitation Jackson haltingly asks Danny, who looks relieved and pleased. Isaac, Erica, and Boyd are curled together on the swings on the back porch, content to stay still, and before Stiles can ask Derek to dance Derek drags him away to a corner of the party.

“You look amazing.” Derek starts. Stiles grins.

“So do you.” He says softly. He hadn’t been able to bully Derek into a sweater for this, but that was a small price to pay for Derek Hale in a well fitted suit.

“You should-you should move in after this.” Derek says, whipping a key out of nowhere. Stiles gapes unattractively.

“To be clear,” he says, “with you?”

“No,” Derek rolls his eyes, “with Jackson. Yes, with me, you dumbass.”

“You’re still a little emotionally constipated, aren’t you?” Stiles asks fondly.

“It’s the damn wedding.” Derek says grumpily. “I forgot the whole speech I had planned and the perfect timing and everything. It’s too – nice.”

“Derek Hale, secret romantic.” Stiles grins. “Not even that secret, to be honest. Yeah, I’ll move in with you. Can I get my name on the mailbox?”

“Sure,” Derek replies, raising an eyebrow, “if you tell me your first name.” Stiles shudders.

“No babe, we can do that after we’re married.” He decides. Derek grins goofily at him, and Stiles has never been happier in his life. “C’mon,” he says, holding out his hand, “let’s dance.”

And they do.

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: now you can find me on [ tumblr!!! ](http://eversall.tumblr.com/) i know, you're SO excited *sarcasm*


End file.
